This concert marked the start of Valery Gergiev's Prokofiev cycle with the London Symphony Orchestra, a week-long project that presents the symphonies in their entirety, as well as including, in future concerts, alternative versions of the Fourth. Some might not consider the cycle necessary, given the glut that marked last year's commemoration of the 50th anniversary of Prokofiev's death. Others might wonder whether Gergiev, a notorious workaholic, is now past his best.

That is not to say that his conducting now lacks insight. The first three symphonies formed the programme. Played together they present a portrait of an enfant terrible, turning his back on revolutionary Russia and heading for the west to create works that deliberately set out to be provocative. A veil of sadness hung over Gergiev's interpretation of the Classical Symphony, presenting it as a farewell to the debased glitter of the Tsarist courts as the clouds of revolution gathered in the distance. The Second Symphony, meanwhile, with its steely orchestral carapace and constructivist pounding, unfolded with the relentless progress of some dreadful machine that flattens everything in its path. In each case, however, the speeds were slow. The Classical Symphony turned sluggish in parts, while the the Second seemed deliberate rather than savage.

Gergiev's performance of the Third also had worrying moments, which was surprising, given that he is regarded as its finest interpreter. Reworking material from The Fiery Angel, Prokofiev's operatic study of demonic possession, this is music of appalling malignancy, and Gergiev's performances once used to scare his audiences half to death. Here, however, he swerved through it at such breakneck speed that the terror failed to materialise. The playing was staggering in its virtuosity, but all too often we were aware of an orchestral tour de force rather than a work that carries substance or meaning.